Things Shift
by thewriteday
Summary: Anne knows the moment her crush became a thing. But that doesn't make group any easier to navigate. (Not sure if I'm going to continue this one yet.)
1. Chapter 1

She'd met men like Ryan King before – all the time in fact. Every little thing he did seemed preordained to piss her off. Like when he called Lauren "Laura." She'd taken great pleasure in sneaking up behind him and scaring the living shit out of him at two paces.

His little "March Sadness" game was admittedly a little fun. Even when she lost miserably to Sonia's cat-death.

Watching Fausta celebrate so joyously when she won, smiling and laughing and dancing, it was oddly inspiring. Like seeing a little crack of light break in the very dim worldview she could feel herself slipping into.

Then Lauren had walked through the door. Lauren in her form-fitting skirt and that sweet silk blouse fluttering lightly as she came to a horrified halt in the doorway of the group room.

Anne felt her heart drop. She hated disappointing Lauren. And she suddenly felt absurdly guilty about being a part of King's commandeering of the session.

But as guilty as she felt, she couldn't think of anything to say to Lauren. So she sat rigidly in her chair and waited for Lauren to reboot the meeting, for Yolanda to deplorably kiss ass the way she always did, for Owen to shut down again, and for King to sit in his chair aimlessly nodding, absolutely reeking of an overinflated ego.

She supposed part of her felt she had to despise King because he reminded her a little of herself when she'd first joined the group. She'd emitted those same incredulous stares in her first few weeks, ashamed of any notion of admitting pain, eager to run from the room at every mention of Lauren's "exercises." She'd had the same cynical tone to every response she shared.

But eventually it had been easier to adjust, easier to let go and admit things. She'd realized there was comfort in honesty when she'd finally convinced herself to admit things, to describe Patti, to talk about her kids and what they were going through alongside her. She'd broken down, and the rest of the group had broken down with her. Slowly, she could feel herself building up again.

And there was no way she was going to let some jackass sports _dude_ come in and ruin what she had with Lauren. Or rather, what she had with the group. Anne pursed her lips a little.

That was the only thing holding her back. Her stupid, stupid, senseless, goddamned crush on the distractingly lovely group leader. Lauren was a little spastic sometimes, a little overdramatic other times, especially with that little golden gong of hers. But she was also adorable, well-dressed, well-read (as their lengthy conversations had come to reveal) and had a spectacular smile.

It hurt at first, the idea that she could have feelings for _anyone _after Patti. Just the thought of her wife still managed to throw her alternatingly into a fit of tears or a fit of rage. Usually the latter. The former only came in the safety of her own home. And one time in the safety of Lauren's arms. That was what had really cemented her affection for the younger woman.

She'd texted Lauren at 2 a.m. one night in a grief-induced wine binge. It had been too late to reasonably be bothering a part-time, informal, grief counsellor and she'd immediately regretted the words as soon as they were sent. More wine seemed the only answer.

Much to Anne's surprise, Lauren had shown up on her doorstep not twenty minutes later, her clear eyes filled with concern and comfort. She'd sat with Anne on the couch (Anne's current sleeping quarters), fetching her several glasses of water and some Tylenol for the impending headache.

And then she'd held her as she cried, Anne's small frame wracking with sobs, desperately trying to keep quiet so the kids would stay put in bed.

In that horrible moment, what she considered the worst of her grief so far, Lauren had been with her. Anne couldn't help the little attachment she'd formed that night. And unfortunately, that little attachment had only become stronger in the months since.


	2. Chapter 2 - Big Blind

A/N: (I own nothing of Go On and its characters, etc., etc.) Last I read, Go On is still on the bubble in terms of being renewed/cancelled, which terrifies me. If there isn't another season, I might be inconsolable for a while as this is one of the funniest shows of the year by far. Rant done.

**Chapter 2 – Big Blind**

Anne didn't love coping with the group most days but today she was finding herself remarkably in tune with them. It helped that the same day, King was picking up his stupid, presumably penis-enhancing car and driving it to meet all of his pretentious, successful friends.

Anne didn't have friends outside of the group. She'd had Patti, and the pair of them had had a circle of couples they enjoyed spending time with. But after the doom and gloom of the funeral came the weeks of those friend-ly couples stopping by. With them came a wasted supply of comfort foods to lead her out of morning like some breadcrumb trail made of 50% cheese.

She did appreciate the cheese though.

She'd lost those friends pretty quickly after ignoring their comforts or alternatively snapping at them.

Before she'd lost Patti, she'd been surprisingly capable of disguising or at least _not _vocalizing how she really felt about people. But with her gone, so too was Anne's filter and any sense of shame or decorum. She'd lost a couple of friends _that _way too: when she'd let slip a few colourful descriptions of just what she thought of her former pals.

Her loosened tongue was also how she'd found herself being recommended for Lauren's group – by a number of concerned and offended co-workers. Even some of the cops she worked with admitted her rage was getting out of control.

Lauren and the rag-tag group of life's castaways had tempered her since she'd come to them, taking her anger and turning it (well, at least, some of it) into more constructive things. They got her back to work; they got her to open back up to her kids. They'd begun to give her some of her life back.

Despite her better judgement, she_ liked _her new friends. Not that she'd ever exactly _tell _them that. Not in so many words.

And then Ryan fucking King, who she'd just been beginning to like, made a hoop-sinking fool of them all, indicating just how ashamed he was to be a part of what they had.

That _he _decided to shirk their bowling night as beneath-him was bad enough; that yet another glaring absence had come belatedly to Anne's attention hurt her tenfold, even when it shouldn't have.

She'd been trying to free the last dregs of coffee from the samovar as the rest of the group filtered out at the end of their session. She was pumping the little spout until her face was red with strain. She hadn't even noticed the woman approach her from behind.

"Come on, goddamnit! Submit!" Anne grunted with strain.

"Anne?" The gentle voice disturbed her so suddenly she nearly flung her cup ten feet in the air. Luckily she maintained her grip enough as not to spill the measly amount inside.

"Jesus, Lauren." She tried to catch her breath. "You said you'd stop doing the ninja-sneak thing."

Lauren pulled a grimace. "Sorry!" She reached out a hand and soothed Anne's arm. Anne felt calmed at the same time that she felt her heartbeat double its pace.

Lauren stepped up next to the samovar and tipped it forward. She nodded to the spigot for Anne to try again.

Anne brought her cup back to the spout and drained coffee into it. Much more successfully this time.

Thanks," she said when her cup was full. She popped a lid on top and bent to retrieve her bag. Lauren just smiled brightly in response, but didn't move away.

Anne took a sip of her coffee. "Yes, Lauren?"

"Hmmm?" The group leader replied.

"You've got your question face on. You want to ask me something."

"I do? I mean, I _do_. But is it that obvious?" Lauren looked adorably baffled.

Anne smirked. "Yes, honey. I'd recognize that face in the dark."

"I just wanted to check in with you. Besides the whole thing with Ryan, you were really quiet today. Any reason?"

Anne opened her mouth for her negative, stock answer, then shut it again, noticing the real concern in Lauren's eyes.

She sighed. "I guess I'm just realizing how many people I pushed away in the last few months."

Lauren nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Anne leaned around the other woman to appraise the empty room behind her. "I hate to break it to you, but the session's over. You're off the clock."

Lauren narrowed her eyes with a slight smile. She folded her arms over her chest. "Fine. But only because I have to run right now. Can I grab coffee with you this week instead?"

Anne blinked at the offer.

"No offence, but shouldn't I just save it for next week? I thought you didn't do outside meetings."

"I wasn't offering as a counsellor. I was offering as a _friend_." Lauren replied with a warm smile. Anne couldn't help but smile too. Lauren's enthusiasm was catching.

"Okay…" Anne eyed the brunette, still skeptical. "What's your game, _friend_?"

"No game! I promise. Here, let me try again. Anne, would you like to grab coffee this week?" There was a break of silence which neither filled until Lauren continued. "And that's where you say…"

"Sure." Anne said, a brow still lifted in uncertainty.

"Perfect! I'll call you tomorrow and we can figure out a good time." Lauren picked up her purse.

"Does this mean you're going bowling with everyone tonight?" Anne asked, suddenly curious if this new leaf extended to the entire group.

"Oh, I can't tonight – I'm meeting Wyatt for dinner. Tell me how it goes though? Don't let Owen drink too much. His mom seems scary. Like one of those really intense dance-moms."

Anne's face fell at the mention of the Wyatt. The man was impossibly sweet, funny, charming – an all-around great partner for Lauren in every sense. But she couldn't help that jealous, little part of her that just _hated _him.

"I'll keep him under control. Talk to you tomorrow, then." Anne said with a half-smile.

"Definitely." Lauren beamed, making a small wave as she left the room and left Anne alone with her rapidly cooling cup of coffee.

* * *

Two rejections in one week – one admittedly more subtle than the other and less intentional – made Anne more bitter than usual at bowling night. As much as she pretended to loathe Fausta's cries of delight over the ball return, she usually had a really good time. But Lauren's absence and King's flippant dismissal left her soured to the whole evening.

When King showed up to admit his mistake, she took great pleasure in swiping the key to his shiny new car and passing it around like a stolen toy. Nothing like a little karmic retribution. Her entire life and career were built around the concept after all.

Her night improved steadily after that – so much so in fact that she called her babysitter to ask her to stay longer, with the potential to stay overnight. Child-care secured, the group headed to Sonia's to hang out. Well, the group _abridged_ – Owen was dropped off at home promptly after bowling to continue sleeping off his two and a half beers.

_"Good god, that kid is a lightweight."_ She was pretty sure he outweighed her by a bit. But then her liver was wrought iron.

They ended up in Sonia's kitchen – George, Ryan, Yolanda, Danny, Fausta, Mr. K, Sonia, and herself all in attendance – huddled around the tiny kitchen table, bickering and teasing about pretty much anything and passing drinks around like it was the height of Mardi Gras.

Around that time, the suggestion of a game was made by Sonia, to which Anne balked immediately.

"Strip Poker?!" She screeched. "Do you know how old I am? Or for that matter, how old all of _you _are?"

"Well I guess that's me out. But I can be the resource of the rules. I am after all the most experienced in getting a woman out of her clothes." George said, maintaining a tight grip on a bottle of whiskey.

"Do I get a vote? Because I've gotta say, I'm with Anne on this one." Ryan added.

"Thanks, King." Anne said.

"We _all _get a vote." Sonia huffed. "So who's in? Raise a hand."

Mr. K, Sonia, Danny, George, and Yolanda raised their hands, the last a little unsteadily.

"Yolanda?" Anne gasped.

"What? I told you not to give me tequila! It makes me crazy! Like those kids on Toddlers and Tiaras. And I play to win." Yolanda said, lowering her hand and grasping for another shot.

Sonia threw a triumphant grin towards Anne and Ryan who were huddled and stewing at one corner of the table. "Looks like you two _nerds_ are outvoted. Majority rules, bitches!"

"This is absurd." Anne muttered, then turned to watch Ryan push four, filled, shot glasses in front of them. "What the hell is this?"

"_These_ are for _us_. Because if I am going to see…" he looked from person to person. "Literally _any_ of these people near-naked, I'm going to need a buffer of utter intoxication."

"Yeah, you just used the word literally correctly. We're going to need more than this." Anne said then downed her first shot and slammed down the glass.

Before they had even noticed her absence, Sonia was already shuffling a deck of cards that had suddenly appeared next to three more bottles of booze.

"How does she _do _that?" Ryan asked still holding one shot glass in his hand.

Danny appraised the dealer in admiration. "I like when you let loose, Sonia. It's pretty amazing."

Sonia grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. "You ain't seen nothing yet, kid."

* * *

"What the holy hot hell, K? You haven't lost one hand!" Anne's voice was three times as loud as usual as the latest gin and tonic hummed pleasantly in her veins.

Sonia was returning to her seat after turning up the heat. They all needed it now, save Mr. K, who hadn't so much lost a sock. The rest of them were hunched over, trying to hide their goods, all nearly half-naked.

Mr. K did a conga in his seat. It was remarkable that he wasn't sweating in his bulky, brown-checkered sweater.

Fausta leaned over to Danny.

"What is he dancing to?" Fausta said in a loud whisper.

Danny shrugged.

"This disco is amazing!" Mr. K said, more to himself than to the room, continuing in his strange dance.

Yolanda glared at Mr. K across the table, keeping her arms folded over her chest. She'd lost the most the fastest and refused to play anymore. Apparently her tiara-tinged strategy was too untested to succeed. As were her little-to-no-poker-playing skills. George had admonished that if she was quitting, she had to keep _off_ what she'd lost. It was to everyone's shock and approval that she complied. It was to everyone's shock and _dismay_ that George had stripped down to tighty-whities in solidarity.

"I really _should _put on some music." Sonia said, getting to her feet before they could finish the hand. Everyone groaned and dropped their cards as she left the room again to add a soundtrack to the increasingly drunken night.

"Who are you texting, King? Got a pretty girl on the line?" Anne asked, peeking over Ryan's phone.

He wrenched it away before she could get a good look. "What. No. What? Go away!"

"Oooooo, looks like _someone's _got a _someone _he wants to booty call." Anne said with a grin, loudly enough for everyone to hear. The group broke out in a mixture of cat-calls, teasing, dirty limericks (provided by Mr. K), and filthy Spanglish (provided by Fausta).

Top 40 radio drifted into the room followed by Sonia who looked utterly downtrodden as she took her seat again. "Awww, come on, what did I miss _this_ time?"

Yolanda's mood had picked up considerably now that she wasn't the target of the group. "Ryan's making booty texts to some girl!" She said brightly, forgetting to cover up her bra. She quickly snapped her arms back up.

"How do you do it, Ryan? I keep asking Hector how to flirt with my wife, but none of his advice has worked so far. Did you know women _don't _like it when you say they smell like the cat?" Danny asked.

The group shared a collective groan.

"Walter, if someone need to tell you how to love a woman, I teach you." Fausta nodded seductively at him and he scooted his chair away.

"Ryan, your face is turning the colour of my favourite pair of Anne's shoes!" Mr. K exclaimed. "I'm loving this new shade on you!"

"Wait… what?" Anne said, levelling a somewhat-terrified glare his way.

Ryan interrupted before she question more. "Good god, you guys are brutal! It's not a booty call! Just, don't worry about it. Let's get back to the game. Anne? Pour us another shot."

The group quieted and picked up their cards, exchanging a few amused glances. Anne poured two shots of whiskey and slid one to Ryan, noting his phone was put away for now. Though god knows where. He only had his boxers and socks on; the rest of his clothes were in a crumpled pile behind him.

"See anything you like, Anne?" Ryan asked, catching her eye and smirking.

"Nothing I haven't _had _and subsequently run _away_ from." She replied, returning to her cards with a chuckle.

"All right, it's bruise-Ryan's-ego night. I get it. I deserve it." Ryan said, his shoulders slumping.

"That and _hell_ of a lot more." Yolanda agreed.

They all looked at her, continuing the hand but hardly paying attention.

"What? I already told you! I get feisty when I drink!" She huffed. She hiccupped and quickly covered her mouth.

A few more hands of poker and banter passed before a knock came at the front door. They all froze.

"Anne, can you get that?" Sonia asked too sweetly, smiling at the older woman.

"Why the hell do I have to do it?" Anne asked, almost offended.

"Because you're closest to the door! And because I love you most?" Sonia tried. "Just check who it is and if it's no one interesting, don't open it."

Anne hesitated and then pushed her chair back, stumbling to her feet and muttering as she walked out of the room. "How the hell am I supposed to determine if its someone _interesting_. It's almost three o'clock in the morning for christ's sake."

She lowered her eye to the peep-hole in Sonia's door and immediately jumped back. She checked her watch, one of the few accessories she'd left on, to make sure she had the time right. Anne steadied a breath and gripped the doorknob tightly, opening the door only wide enough to put her face in the crack she'd left open.

"Lauren? What are you doing here?" She said, trying to keep her tone un-panicked.

Their fearless group leader was standing on Sonia's stoop wearing an adorable set of pyjama shorts and a camisole under her open jacket. Her hair was a mess and her feet were in tall boots completely unsuited to the rest of her outfit. She looked sleep-mussed and worried.

"Ryan texted me; he said you were all hanging out here and that someone needed help from me, so here I am. Can I come in?"

That solved the mystery of Ryan's lady-friend. Not a booty call, but a _grief_ call and a fake one at that. Anne's brain scrambled to come up with some kind of explanation for her half-naked body still hidden by the door or with a reason as to why in the hell Lauren could _not _enter the house. Neither came to her quickly enough.

"Have you been drinking?" Lauren asked, her expression filling with amusement.

"No! No? …Yeah." Anne was still wavering on her feet but managed to keep a firm enough hold on the door to stay grounded.

"Well… can you let me in? Who is it that needs help tonight?" Lauren moved forward and put her hand to the door, expecting it to relent under her gentle push. But Anne pushed back.

"N-no one! King's just being an idiot. You know. Being that he _is_ an idiot." Anne stuttered, cursing the man in her own head. He was a hell of a lot more than an idiot at this point. What in god's name was he trying to accomplish by bringing Lauren over while they were all being drunken, teenage-class idiots? Utter humiliation? Discomfort? Shock?

Lauren took a step back. "Really? It sounded serious. Are you sure?" She attempted to push the door again. Anne's feet slipped slightly; she held the door closer to her chest.

"Yes! I'm sure! We're just drinking! He must have thought it'd be a funny prank!" Anne made one last attempt at an excuse.

"Well maybe," Lauren grunted, throwing more of her weight into the door, "I'd better just come in any–" Lauren succeeded in pushing Anne back from the door but lost her words entirely now that she was through the archway. Revealed to her eye was Anne's entire body, covered by only a small black bra and underwear set. Lauren's eyes bulged. Whatever she'd expected to find when she'd received Ryan's message, it was not _this._

Her eyes lingered over Anne's frame, watching as the woman caught her breath after all the strain of holding the door closed. The older woman's body looked good. _Absurdly_ good. _Impossibly_ good. In ways that Lauren had always assumed but never imagined. Well, never imagined quite this way. "_Shit!"_ She thought, snapping her eyes up to Anne's, hoping she hadn't been caught staring like a ten year-old-boy at the cover of Maxim.

The glint in Anne's eye and her sideways grin was all the proof Lauren needed that she'd most definitely been caught.

Anne shut the door lightly and turned to Lauren, about to say something, when an eruption of jeers, jokes, and laughter sprouted from the kitchen down the hall, oblivious to their discomfort.

Lauren glanced in that direction before turning back to Anne, who was leaning against the door.

"Wh-why are you–?" Lauren sputtered.

"Strip poker. And before you ask, it was _not_ my idea. I was telling you the truth – no one's having a crisis of grief that I'm aware of. It's all a bunch of drunken hooliganism in there. Nothing _too_ unbelievable. K is winning, everyone else is losing, and _everyone_ is quite drunk." Anne looked up for a moment, considering something. "Except K. I know I've_ seen_ him drinking as much as the rest of us but he still seems _way _too–"

Anne's words were not stopped by a loss of thought, but by lips – Lauren's lips – pressed suddenly and roughly against her own. Lauren's entire _body_ was pressed against hers. And Anne's booze-swollen brain was spinning at the assault. She set her hands lightly on Lauren's shoulders, her lips moved with instinct rather than comprehension, and her confusion was compounded by the feeling of Lauren's hands clutching her bare waist.

It didn't last long before Lauren suddenly jumped back, leaving them both breathing a little heavier and staring wide-eyed at each other as if seeing some kind of ancient celestial being for the first time.

Anne was the first to blink, to return to her senses, which, as they were, were still half-muddied by her alcohol consumption.

"Lauren," Anne tried but couldn't think of what to add to that. Down the hall they could still hear the sounds of revelry as if they'd forgotten Anne had left the room at all, which based on everyone's state was entirely likely.

Lauren lifted one hand to her mouth. "Oh my god, Anne. I'm so sorry." She said in a panicked whisper.

Anne shook her head lightly. "It-It's okay."

"No it isn't! I can't believe I just – I'm not even drunk! I have no excuse. Shit!" Lauren's eyes darted around the room, unable to fix on anything longer than a second.

Anne's head tilted lightly, finding the woman's distress painfully endearing. She stepped forward and placed her hands on Lauren's shoulders, stilling the woman's eyeful-assault of the room while keeping her at a safe, middle-school-dance distance, just to be safe.

"Lauren? Look at me." Anne instructed, sounding remarkably composed. Lauren complied immediately, her eyes still adorably wide.

Anne continued. "It _is_ okay. Really. It was just a little kiss. Nothing to freak out about."

Lauren took a couple more breaths. "Really?"

"Really." Anne smiled softly. "Now why don't you go home and get some sleep – I'm guessing the reason for what just happened is that you're exhausted – and I'll go tell the rest of them that it was no one in particular at the door and I just went to the bathroom."

Lauren nodded slowly. "Okay. You're sure?"

"Yes." Anne said with a firmness she didn't really feel. As she watched Lauren leave, all she felt was an uneasiness, like the thing she wanted, the thing that had been so close for a second, was already slipping away. She could barely fathom what had just occurred. Before she returned to the kitchen she stopped off in the bathroom, removing her glasses and splashing some cold water in the face, taking in the bleary expression on her features in the mirror, the redness of her eyes, the wavering of her vision.

She went back to the kitchen and began re-dressing. "I'm calling it a night, folks."

This unleashed a collective round of groans.

"Come on, Anne! I was about to win a hand. I can feel it!" Ryan said, shaking his cards at her.

"I didn't say anyone _else_ had to leave! I'm calling a cab. Anyone who wants to join me, can."

"I'd better," George said, his hands reaching around his chair for his own clothes. "Not that they'd notice I'm gone at the home, but I've been bored for about the last ten hands."

Yolanda grimaced. "Me too. If my parents haven't checked the GPS on my phone by now, they're going to soon. And then they're going to ask questions," she said.

"Damnit, Anne! Why do you have to be such a wet blanket?" Sonia groaned, her head falling back dramatically against her chair.

"Because I have kids, honey. And I should get home to them before it's too far into tomorrow." Anne replied throwing on her coat and then dialing for a cab. She provided the address as Sonia fed it to her.

"Does not mean we cannot party more!" Fausta said, winking at Danny and nudging him with her elbow.

Danny stood immediately. "Yeah I should really turn in soon too. I have a big day tomorrow! Hector wants me to join him for paintball. He might even give _me_ a gun this time!"

"It's official. Anne has ended the party. Time of death: barely 3:02." Sonia said, sweeping the cards from the table and stacking them. She paused as she remembered why the woman had left the room in the first place. "Who was at the door?"

Anne turned to her, her eyes faltering a little. "No one interesting."


End file.
